Too Late
by Moonbugg
Summary: l"Sirius. Sirius Black" The voice echoed round the head of the man slumped against the cold stone archway ... Flashes of his life came flooding back to him ... He was Sirius Black ... That voice belonged to his godson ...
1. A Big Headache

_Disclaimer: It isn't mine! None of it is mine! Deal with it!__

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'Sirius.'

The voice echoed round the head of the man lying slumped against the cold stone archway. He stirred and almost imperceptibly shook his head as though to clear it. The voice sounded urgent but excited, and the man's eyelids twitched as he heaved himself out of unconsciousness. His head was pounding and he didn't recognise the room he was lying in through half-open eyes, but there was definitely something familiar about that voice.

He sat up, opened his eyes fully and looked about him. The room was shaped like an amphitheatre, circular with stone benches all around the outside in levels. But there was no one there.

'Sirius Black!'

He frowned, trying to remember where he had heard that voice before. Flashes of his life came flooding back to him, battling for space in his head with the blood still beating through it. He was Sirius Black ... That voice ... it belonged to ... his godson ... Harry ... the mirror ...

Sirius plunged his hand into his pocket and withdrew a small, dirty square of glass. He caught a glimpse of Harry's face before the view tilted and he saw the ceiling of the room Harry was in whizz past. There was a crash that echoed about the empty room and the mirror broke in his hands.

Sirius jumped and dropped the shattered glass in shock, smashing it into even smaller pieces. He cursed and started to pick them up.

As he leant forward to pick up a large piece of glass, a stark white piece of paper fell to the floor, not with the yellow tinge of parchment. Muggle paper, he thought. It had writing on one side, the swirly characters written in black ink that didn't look like it had been formed with a quill.

_So I'm crazy am I? They didn't believe me; they said my brains had been addled by my monstrous experience. I told them, again and again that they were mistaken, that they had the wrong man, but who _would_ believe a lunatic? Not Cornelius Fudge, that is for sure. I have no faith in our race any longer. If they will put away an innocent man without a trial, and not listen to any defence, crazy witness or not, then I do not want any more to do with them. I shall withdraw myself from their vicious society. I have no need of my wand. If I am as mad as they think I am, they will not find this disturbing. I doubt anyone will even notice ..._

But would they notice if I vanished for ever? I doubt that too. And if they do, it will be no loss. One less crazy person to care for, they will say ...

I have thought, and I won't end it now. I figure there must be a reason for me to make this choice. A reason the Fates haven't informed me of yet. But there will be a reason. It will give me an aim in life - to live until this important day comes. It will be a life without him, true, but it is something to live for ...

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I wrote this seventeen years ago in my diary. The Fates finally told me what that duty was. I Saw you fall through the veil, and I was shown that my job is to sacrifice myself for you. My life has been ruined, but yours, while disrupted, is still whole, and you have a lot to live for. Your godson would die inside if you did, and you still have to avenge your best friend's death.

You see, I knew. I watched you all the time, although you probably never noticed. I knew where you were, and I also knew that you were innocent. I tried to make the Wizengamot see reason. I told them I knew you were innocent. But to take the words of a mad woman seriously is too appalling for them to imagine. I saw my whole family murdered, and only escaped because I was hiding on the attic mourning for the love I never had, and now never shall. They imagined that this had 'addled my brains', as I was told when I was pleading your case, but what they never knew was the grief I was suffering, and still am.

I only hope that you will be happy, for though my life will not have been wasted in vain - it never would for you - I would be happier in my death knowing that you will be happy to have lived, for Harry as much as for yourself.

All my love, for eternity,

Cassandra

P.S. Keep the Cloak

Sirius stared at the letter for what seemed like hours. He felt dizzy, and he wasn't sure whether it was the contents of the letter or his headache.

He stood up unsteadily, catching the Invisibility Cloak as it fell away from him and leaning on the stone archway for support. The stone felt cold and even clammy to his touch, and he felt a strangely strong urge to step through the fluttering veil. But then he remembered the urgency in Harry's voice and removed his hand quickly.

Taking a last look round to check that he had everything, Sirius staggered off the dais in the general direction of the door. His head was hurting so much his vision kept blacking out but he forced himself on. He didn't like the presence of the archway, nor did he feel particularly comfortable listening to the whispers of people - or things - unknown.

As he reached the door, he could hear people moving behind it. Remembering that he was a wanted man, he decided it would be better for him to remain unseen and flung the Invisibility Cloak around him. Very slowly he opened the door.

It opened into another circular room with a black floor and ceiling and walls lined with doors. A door exactly opposite him was just closing, and he could hear footsteps receding up the corridor. As quick as a flash, Sirius whipped round, pointed his wand at the door he had come through and bellowed 'Flagrate!' A fiery 'X' fixed itself to the door just as the walls began to spin.

'And old Moony told me I never listened to him,' said Sirius ironically as he waited for the walls to slow down. Lupin had used the same charm when they came through, looking for Harry.

Once the walls had stopped, Sirius moved back to the door with the X marked on it and faced the room. As long as the doors themselves hadn't switched places, the exit should be directly opposite him now. He crossed the room and opened the door on the corridor leading to the courtrooms. He cheered silently, and very quietly started up the corridor towards the lift.

'Damn it,' he thought as he reached the lift. 'I can't call the lift without arousing suspicion.'

He sat down against the wall to wait. This time it probably would be hours before he had a chance to escape.

'Remus'd be proud to see me now,' he muttered sourly. Not taking chances. Waiting as his sensible friend would.

If only he knew what had happened. If Voldemort had been rash enough to show himself to the world, Sirius would be able to walk through the Atrium right now, right in front of the people he hated for locking him away. But if, somehow, the saga had gone undetected ... He would be arrested and certainly killed. Sirius sighed loudly and nearly choked as he fought to silence it. Someone was coming up the corridor.

An Unspeakable, he supposed. The man was dressed in dusty black robes and had his nose stuck into a book called The Theory of Conserving Knowledge. Sirius guessed he worked in the room with the brains, but the book's title made him snort with laughter.

'It's called a book?' he said under his breath. Really, there must be something more wrong with him than he thought. He was laughing at the most ridiculous things. He slid behind the Unspeakable and waited for the lift.

Luckily it was pretty much empty - Sirius didn't fancy his chances of squeezing in with lots of people while he was invisible. Could cause a lot of problems. Everyone got out at the Atrium. Must be going-home time, he thought. The Atrium was heaving with people, and he thought it would probably be best to leave it till a bit later before risking the fires. If he tried to Apparate he felt he would botch it in his current condition and end up splinching himself.

Sirius had a mental image of Cornelius Fudge trying to locate the owner of the legs standing in the middle of the Atrium while Remus flapped Sirius's torso in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, interrogating him as to the whereabouts of his legs, and covered his mouth to cover his laughter while he retreated into a dark corner out of the way of workers returning home. To their wives and family.

He was swiftly reminded of the reason he was still here, able to laugh at the idea of a splinched Sirius. He felt tears come to his eyes and he wiped them irritably away, again not sure what had caused them. His head gave an extra hard throb, and he nearly screamed from the pain. He collapsed on the floor and curled up into a tight ball, clutching his head, and passed out.

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**The long-promised sequel to _The Last Seer_! Hope it's up to scratch!**

**I would love to hear any constructive criticism, and hell, any flames, too. They give me a much-needed laugh, so knock yourself out!!**

**I'm one of the trio, _Padfoot, Prongs and Moony_; check out our stories - we've got another new one up. Our guarantee is that you will laugh at LEAST once a chapter. Well, I've got to plug it somehow, haven't I?!**


	2. Hippogriffs and Cleaning Ladies

'Hang on Buckbeak,' mumbled Sirius and pulled the cover further over his head. The scratching down his back became more insistent so he extended his hand and batted Buckbeak's head away.

'AARGH!' The cleaning lady screamed at the appearance of the bodiless arm, dropped her broom and ran back to wherever cleaning ladies come from.

'AARGH!' screamed Sirius, startled that Buckbeak was screaming at _him_ and not caring how much it hurt his head.

When he had run out of breath, Sirius stopped screaming and rolled over. Through the slight blur created by the Invisibility Cloak he could see the darkened Atrium in the background and the head of the broom that had been insistently trying to sweep him out of his cosy corner.

He jumped up, jarring his head and realising that the cleaning lady would be coming back with help in a minute. Clearing his mind of another image of an army of cleaning ladies wielding bottles of Mrs Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover to remove the not-so-magical (or at least not until this blasted headache had gone) mess that was cluttering their floor, he walked as quickly as he could to the fireplaces at the far end of the Atrium. There on the large mantelpiece was a sizable pot of Floo Powder. Sirius helped himself and sprinkled a generous handful into the flames. Instantly they turned green he stepped in and whispered, 'Twelve Grimmauld Place!'

The fire in the kitchen was thankfully still alight, probably _not_ due to Kreacher, and it spat him out onto the cold stone floor. He winced as his head gave another painful throb and then stood up.

The kitchen was empty of people, which was strange, since recently the doorbell had never stopped ringing and waking his dear mother. He couldn't even hear Kreacher muttering to himself somewhere in the depths of the house.

'Not even Remus is here,' said Sirius aloud, feeling a bit disappointed. But then he remembered that all and sundry probably thought he was dead and felt bad at reproaching his friend.

Thinking he had better go and apologise for attempting to hit Buckbeak earlier, he fetched a bag of rats from the pantry and wandered slowly upstairs.

Buckbeak was perched on Sirius's mother's bed munching on what looked like a cow's shoulder blade.

'Thank Merlin for Lupin,' said Sirius. Buckbeak heard him and went mad to see his master, reminding Sirius of an odd-shaped, overgrown dog. It was very gratifying to know that he didn't have to bow every time he met Buckbeak now.

The welcome over with, Sirius retired to his bedroom with a healing potion. It was past midnight and he had a lot of work to do tomorrow. Contact Remus and Dumbledore, Harry too, and he was anxious to find out more about the girl who had given her life for him.

His headache had dulled and he found himself wondering how long he had been unconscious for, and how much longer he would need to sleep before recovering. He felt his eyelids closing and fell asleep.

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Sirius woke up eighteen hours later feeling almost normal. The hint of his headache was still there, but not strong enough to trouble him, so he draped his feet over the edge of the bed and got up.

After checking on Buckbeak he went down to the kitchen. It wasn't as empty as it had been the night before; Remus was sat at the scrubbed wooden table, his head in his hands. Sirius didn't know what to say, so he hovered in the doorway until he sneezed.

Remus nearly jumped out of his skin. When he caught sight of Sirius he went paler than he already was and his eyes widened.

'W-w-what ... How ... S-Sirius?'

Sirius let him stammer for a few moments; then he grinned.

'It's me,' he said, stepping into the room. Remus stood shakily and they embraced like brothers. Sirius helped his shell-shocked friend back into his chair and then set about making something to eat. He hadn't eaten for ... as long as he had been unconscious plus a day, he worked out, and he was ravenous. Remus looked like he could do with a solid meal, too.

As he cooked a simple meal for the two of them, he told Remus everything that he knew had happened, and what he guessed about the girl and the veil.

'So who was she?' asked Remus eventually.

'Dunno,' said Sirius. 'That's what I've been trying to work out. I don't remember anyone at school called Cassandra, so unless she went to another school -'

'There was someone,' said Remus slowly. 'She was in Gryffindor - the year below us, I think. She was very quiet and very good at remaining unnoticed.'

'Trust you to notice her then!' said Sirius, feeling a lot better having eaten. Then, seriously, 'D'you think it could be her?'

'I don't know,' said Remus. 'Her name was Cassandra Trelawney. I seem to remember her being very good at Divination, so I'll bet she's some relation to Sybill Trelawney. _She_ works at the school now.'

Sirius leaned back in his chair and looked thoughtful. 'Would this Sybill know where she lives – lived?'

'I doubt it.' Remus glanced at the letter again. 'This says she left the wizarding world, lived as a Muggle. I doubt she would have wanted any contact from any of our lot.'

'Not even her own family?' said Sirius disbelievingly.

Remus shrugged.

'Well, how can we trace her then?' Sirius was becoming impatient.

Remus thought for a moment. 'Transform,' he said suddenly. Sirius raised his eyebrows. 'I mean it, Sirius.'

Sirius changed into his dog form and looked at Remus, unconvinced. His friend thrust the paper under his snout. 'Smell,' he ordered.

Sirius rolled his eyes and sniffed at the paper. There was a very vague but strange mixture of fish, fresh bread and smoke on it, proving that it had been removed from that environment a while ago, but Sirius's dog senses picked up on it. It did smell familiar …

Remus removed it. 'You can change back now.'

Sirius resumed his normal form looking puzzled.

'What did it smell of?' asked Remus, genuinely interested.

Sirius sniffed the air again as if to renew the smell. 'It smelled like … No, it can't be …'

'What!' said Remus.

'It smelt … of home …' said Sirius vaguely.

'Home? What do you mean? Sirius!' Remus pleaded, when his friend continued to ignore him.

'My flat. You know, the one I bought when I left home. Well, it didn't smell like the actual flat, but of the area. Fish, bread and smoke. The river was close by, the market out in the street, and the factory across the river. She must live near …'

Sirius's voice trailed off as it struck him.

'When I sold that flat,' he said slowly, 'it went to a girl, the man said, about the same age as me … It was her, wasn't it? It was Cassandra.'

Remus nodded. 'Possibly,' he said.

They sat in silence for a minute. Sirius was thinking. She probably hadn't done anything with the flat before coming to save him. Her things might still be there. He didn't relish the prospect of going through it all – it felt like invading her privacy – but he had to know about her. He knew he still had the key from years ago. He hadn't given it back because he thought he had lost it, but it had been found recently when everything in the house had been ransacked.

Sirius made his decision. He leapt up from the table, not even stopping to laugh as Remus fell backwards off his chair in shock, as he would have done this time last night.

He raced upstairs to his bedroom, grabbed the Cloak and a small brass key from a drawer and was downstairs again before Remus had time to right himself and follow him into the hall. Sirius just managed to hear Remus's shout of frustration as the slam of the front door woke up the portrait of Sirius's mother before he had donned the Cloak and run across the square.

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**_Disclaimer: I promise, only the storyline is mine. I wish Sirius was,but he isn't, and I have come to terms with that.  
(That doesn't mean he's yours, Kash!)_**

**Well, what can I say? Thank you to my THREE lovely reviewers, Padfoot, QuidditchMoke and Loki Mischief-Maker (yeah, yeah, I have five reviews … well two of them were me, accidentally …) and since all three of you are very special I'm going to dedicate the first three chapters to you!**

**Anyone else … please review if you feel like it. If not, well, I'll just dedicate the next chapter to someone else. How's that for incentive!**


	3. Flapjacks

_Disclaimer: Sirius does not belong to me, however much money I throw into the Wishing Fountain to make it so._

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Chapter 3: Flapjacks 

He could have Apparated, but, not having seen the daylight from outside for so long, he preferred to walk under the safety of the Invisibility Cloak. He sniffed the air, as he would in his dog form, and rejoiced in air that wasn't tinted with dust. Instead it smelt of car exhaust, but Sirius was too pleased to be outside to notice. The sun was still shining but not a hint of shadow betrayed him.

'I've got to remember to move out of people's way,' he muttered as he nearly walked into an old man with a walking stick. A woman walking past stared in his direction, puzzled as to where the voice was coming from.

Forty-five minutes of dodging Muggles and cars and hoping he was going in the right direction later, Sirius turned into the street he used to live in. That was where the market stood, but empty at nine in the evening.

Sirius checked he had the key in his pocket for the hundredth time before starting towards the whitewashed building that used to be his home.

He paused at the bottom of the steps which lead up to the door.

I hope no one lives there now, he thought.

The steps seemed to go on forever, and each one higher than the last. He eventually reached the top and stared intently at the panel to the right of the door. A Mr and Mrs Morrisby lived in flat number Three. Old Mrs Connoly in Number Four. Sirius remembered her. Mrs Connoly had been the hardest to convince that he was normal. Thank goodness everyone just thought she was a mad old woman who imagined the troop of odd-looking people continually tramping past her door. Someone called Jane Coleman had moved into Number One. But both numbers Two and Five looked empty.

'She might not have wanted anyone to know where she was,' reasoned Sirius to himself. 'She was hiding from, people after all.'

'Who was hiding from people?' asked a voice from the pavement. Sirius whirled round to see an old lady trying to drag her trolley up the steps. She was looking straight at him. Through the Invisibility Cloak.

'That little madam from upstairs? Darn these steps. Do you think you could help me, young man?'

Without conscious thought, Sirius found himself descending to the pavement and helping the old lady with her shopping. He didn't think how odd it would look to any passers-by for a trolley to be levitating itself up the steps.

The old lady removed a key from her pocket and opened the door. 'Yes, that little hussy seems to spend her time avoiding people,' she said chattily. 'I do try and speak to her on occasion but she just doesn't make the effort to be the remotest bit friendly.'

She was now struggling with the stairs to her flat, and the newly silent Sirius moved forwards to carry the trolley up for her.

'Oh, thank you dear. Just last week I simply asked how she was and she trembled like a leaf, ran off up the stairs and slammed her door behind her. A strange lot have lived in that flat, you know. About, ooh, twenty years ago it must be now, there used to be a young man - who looked not unlike yourself, actually. His friends were very odd. Dressed in the _strangest_ things, they were. Oh, hello, Maggie.'

A door on the right of the landing had opened, and a young woman's head was peering round it.

'Who've you got there, Mrs Connoly?' she asked, obviously humouring the old lady.

'Oh, a young man who was asking after _her_ upstairs.' Mrs Connoly pointed with her thumb.

Maggie smiled sympathetically at the old lady and shut the door. If she had looked closer, Sirius realised, she would have seen the trolley was carrying itself. Maybe it would have caused her to take the old lady seriously, thought Sirius, feeling sorry for Mrs Connoly. She may be eccentric, but she seemed to be far more observant than the average Muggle. He turned his attentions back to her as she unlocked her front door, chattering away again.

'The sounds I used to hear from that flat,' she was now saying. 'Sometimes it could be quite frightening. There used to be thumps and bumps and crashes as though something was destroying the furniture.'

Something _was_ destroying the furniture, though Sirius. It was called Moony.

'I called the police once, you know. They thought I was imagining it. But animals also used to thunder up and down the stairs; dogs, rats, _deer_! I even saw a wolf once. Would you like a cuppa? They all think I'm a bit senile, see, but I know.' She tapped the side of her nose conspiratorially and put a cup of tea on the table in front of Sirius and removed the trolley from him.

'This girl moved in straight after the young man moved out. She's been there ever since. Fifteen years I suppose it must be now. And in all that time she's only addressed about the same amount of words to me. Downright rude, I call it.'

Sirius had come to the conclusion that this old lady wasn't quite as mad as it seemed everyone thought she was. She was just different. As far as he knew, only Moody could see through Invisibility Cloaks, but here was a normal Muggle who could see him too.

'Are you all right, dear? Is the tea not milky enough?'

Sirius shook his head, made a sound in his throat and took a sip of tea.

'So what is it you want to see her for? I'm not sure she'll let you in.'

Sirius cleared his throat. 'She sent me a letter,' he croaked.

And you want to say thank you. Lovely manners, young man. Reminds me of him that used to live upstairs. He kept himself to himself as well, but never short of manners if we ever did speak. Well, I wish you luck trying to get an intelligible sentence out of her. Do pop back in when you're done; I'm making some of my flapjacks.'

'Er, thanks,' mumbled Sirius, and slipped out of the door.

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_This is a bit of a random chapter, I know. But it was quite amusing to write, so I wrote it. And it also provided a little bit of background knowledge. Maybe._

_Sorry for the hugely long delay it took this chapter to arrive! I left the world of fanfiction for a while, but I'm in a creative mood at the moment - long may it last! ... Woah ... I last updated on 18th March ... my sincerest apologies, people!  
__:oS_

_Thank you to all my previous reviewers, and also thank you in advance for any reviews you leave for this chapter!_


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